Brave the Heat (22 page)

“We’re following up on some eyewitness accounts about a car seen in the area,” the police chief said. “It matches the description of one spotted near the Thompson place, not long before their shed was torched, and by the old gas station.”

“Yeah, but that’s one vague-ass description,” Rogers groused.

“Yup.” The police chief flipped open his notepad. “A dark-colored, two-door hatchback, possibly black or blue, with local plates. Maybe a Honda, but could be a Ford.”

“Well, shit.” Gavin folded up the report, fighting his burgeoning frustration. Like the Heffernan kid’s car.
No
way.
“You described about a third of the town’s vehicles. We need more than that.”

“We’ll find him,” Rogers growled. “These guys get caught eventually. The car is a good lead, but I’m more curious about checking out the crowds that showed up at the fires.”

“Why?” Gavin’s brow furrowed. “You think that our firebug would come watch his handiwork?”

“Probably.” Rogers pulled out a cigarette and lit it before taking a long drag. “Like I said, they love to watch shit burn. Anyone come to mind?”

Gavin stared at the burned-out building and swore under his breath.

“What?” Rogers flicked ash onto the ground. “You got an idea?”

“Not one that’s gonna make me feel any better.” Gavin folded his arms over his chest and crumpled the paper in his hand. “We have a kid, local high school student, who’s been working for us around the station. I think he’s just an eager future firefighter but…well…shit. I can’t believe the kid would be involved, but he’s shown up at every scene like it’s freaking Christmas morning.”

“Name?” Rogers clicked his pen.

“David Heffernan.”

“The Heffernan kid?” The police chief made a face of disbelief. “Hell, I could see you pointing the finger at his twin. I mean, Robert has been causing trouble since he could walk, but David? That’s crazy.”

“So is a firebug,” Rogers said, the cigarette dangling between his lips.

“Well, I say that kid’s not good for it, but we’ll check out his whereabouts during the time of the fires. I’ll reach out to the local news station too.” The police chief pulled out his cell phone and started poking at the screen. “They were here the night of the school fire, and I’m sure they got shots of the crowd.”

“Good,” Gavin seethed. “And when you figure out who did it, you better find him before I do.”

“Hey, Gavin?” Rogers sucked down another drag. “You look like shit, man.”

“Thanks.” Gavin shot an irritated look at him. “I haven’t exactly slept well since all of this crap started.”

“You aren’t gonna be any good to anyone if you fall asleep standing up. Why don’t you go home?” The police chief slipped his notebook in the pocket of his jacket and jutted his chin toward Rogers. “We’ve got the investigation under control. Do the town a favor: go home and get some sleep.”

“He’s right.” Rogers started toward his car. He flicked his cigarette into the driveway of the school before tugging open the driver’s side door of his car. “And if you don’t get rid of that big albatross around your neck, it’s gonna be
you
next time. Get some sleep. I’ll call you after we get the test results back on the materials. That might help us narrow things down.”

Gavin stayed for a few minutes after the other men left. They were right; he was dog-ass tired. But stopping to sleep felt like a betrayal.

While sleep might not be on his agenda, a cold shower and a big pot of coffee sounded like a good alternative. Gavin wouldn’t be able to rest until they found the firebug and stomped him out.

* * *

Jordan stood on the porch of Tommy’s small ramshackle cottage, flowers and a pizza in hand. She rang the bell for a second time before peeking in the little arched window at the top of the door. Tommy had been released from the hospital a couple days after the fire. She knew that much, and that his injuries were limited to some scrapes and bruises. He’d been at Rick’s funeral, but as usual, he’d stayed along the fringe of the crowd, doing his best to disappear and emerging only long enough to pay his respects to Maddy.

She was about to give up when she spotted a familiar silhouette shuffling toward the front door. Jordan stepped back and adjusted the flowers in her hand before putting on a big smile. As the door swung open, she hoped like hell she wasn’t overstepping her bounds.

“Hey, Tommy.” Jordan held up the pizza box and smiled. “I thought you might be hungry, and I figured you probably weren’t up for making yourself dinner. I know the ladies at the church made you a bunch of meals to freeze, but I thought you might be looking for something other than a casserole. Can I come in?”

“Oh…uh…I don’t know.” Tommy smoothed the tuft of gray hair on the scarred side of his head before opening the door a little more. “The place is kinda messy.”

“No worries,” Jordan said with a wide smile. “I have two kids. Believe me, I don’t even see messes anymore.”

He glanced over his shoulder as though weighing his options. “Can we eat out on the porch?” Tommy asked, gesturing to the little café-style table and chairs to the left. “I wasn’t expecting company,” he said quietly.

“Of course.” Jordan quickly brought the pizza to the table and placed it on the chipped wooden surface. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I guess I should have called first, but I didn’t have your phone number. I was worried about you.”

“It’s okay.” His soft-spoken tone brightened a bit as he closed the door behind himself. “It’s just that I don’t get visitors often, and I’d be embarrassed for you to see my place the way it is. I’m not much of a housekeeper. I guess cleaning up after the kids at the school all day is enough.”

“I really don’t mind. It’s a nice night, so eating alfresco sounds good to me.” Jordan opened the box and sat on the little wooden folding chair. She hung her purse on the back and handed Tommy the flowers. “These are for you too.”

“Really?” His face reddened as he took the paper-wrapped bouquet. “Nobody never gave me flowers before. Especially not a pretty lady like you, Miss Jordan. You should be the one getting flowers. Not me.”

“Flowers are for everyone.” She took a slice of pizza and held it out to Tommy. He sat down across from her and laid the bouquet in his lap. “And so is pizza!”

* * *

They ate and chatted for close to an hour, and to Jordan’s surprise, Tommy was actually quite the conversationalist. In addition to being passionate about the town, he was a big fan of car racing, ultimate fighting, and online gaming. It was nice to know that he might be shy, but he was hardly the sad figure that everyone painted him as. He was introverted, to be sure, but based on his gaming exploits, he had a large online community that he considered an extended family. And among them was a lady friend he hoped to meet in person someday.

Eventually, as the light began to dwindle, it was time to ask the one question she’d been holding back.

“Tommy, can I ask you a personal question?” She closed up the pizza box and caught his eye. “It’s about you and Gavin.”

“Okay.” He lifted one shoulder and looked down at the bouquet of flowers still in his lap. He picked them up and smelled them. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, it’s about the fire when you were children…”

“That was a long time ago,” he said quickly.

“I know. And I know that Gavin tried to save you and your brother.”

“Jimmy didn’t listen,” Tommy said quietly, his face getting a faraway look. “Gavin told him not to mess with the matches, but he took some when we weren’t lookin’ and went up to the loft. Dumb kid.” Anger and pain etched his features and his voice wavered. “He shoulda stayed down there with us. We were only smokin’ a few stupid cigarettes, but Jimmy kept wantin’ to light the matches and Gavin kept tellin’ him no.”

“So Jimmy is the one who actually started the fire?” Jordan asked gently.

“Yeah.” Tommy shifted in his seat and kept his eyes on the flowers. “I went up to the loft to get him, but the fire spread so fast and he was trapped behind the hay bales. I got real scared and kinda froze. The flames got so big and they were so hot, and it was like my feet wouldn’t cooperate. But Gavin came up that ladder and got me. I was too afraid to move, but not him. He brought me down himself, and he wanted to go back up for Jimmy, but…it burned too fast and everything started to come down.”

“That’s when he got hurt?” She squeezed Tommy’s arm and whispered, “When both of you were injured?”

“Yeah.” Tommy nodded and swiped at his eyes before turning a harsh glare in her direction. “Why don’t you ask him about it?” Tommy asked in a surprisingly curt tone. He turned his good eye to her briefly. “Aren’t you and him goin’ together again?”

“Sort of,” she said quietly. “But he’s in a lot of pain right now after what happened to Rick. To be honest, I don’t think it’s only because of Rick’s death. I think he’s carrying around a lot of guilt about what happened in that barn when you were children. I guess I was hoping you could help me shed some light on it so that I could understand him better.” Jordan reached over and laid her hand on Tommy’s forearm, hoping he would look her in the eye again. “So that I can help him,” she added softly. “Both of you.”

“You should go now,” Tommy said, abruptly rising to his feet. “It’s getting late and it’s almost time for the next game with my guild.”

“I’m sorry.” Jordan stood up as guilt swamped her.
Damn
it!
She’d pushed it too far. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I only wanted to help.”

“It’s fine.” He shuffled to the door and didn’t look back, but the pitch of his voice rose. “I-I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Thanks for the pizza and the flowers. Good-bye, Jordan.”

Without waiting for a response, Tommy disappeared inside and slammed the door. Jordan let out a huff of frustration before getting her purse and going to her car. She started the engine and backed slowly out of the gravel driveway before making the turn toward the McGuires’ house. She’d succeeded in finding out more about what happened during that fire so many years ago, but all it did was make her heart ache further. There was a good chance that Gavin would be about as receptive to her meddling as Tommy.

But then, there was one big difference between the two broken men.

Gavin McGuire was in love with her.

It was a good bet that when she got to his house, he was going to push her away and pretend he didn’t need her. He would probably say hurtful things to get her to leave, and it was going to sting like hell.

No more running.

Gavin leaned on the deck railing outside his cottage and stared out over the crashing waves below. He was finishing off his fourth cup of coffee. The cold shower had peeled away some of the fog and the pot of coffee was finally kicking in, but nothing could help him shake the overwhelming shroud of grief and guilt.

The sky burned orange and pink along the horizon as the sun made its leisurely descent over the edge of the world. When he was a kid, he’d squeeze his eyes shut and try to hear the sound the sun made when it finally disappeared. Sometimes, he’d sworn he could actually detect a subtle
thunk
as the brilliant orb vanished.

His gut clenched when his gaze settled on Jordan’s gray-shingled cottage below. Swearing under his breath, Gavin drained the rest of his coffee and slammed the mug onto the table behind him. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He was doing what was best for her and the girls. They had all been through enough.

Jordan and her daughters should have someone in their lives who wasn’t at daily risk of buying it on the job. Rick had been right about that. It would be selfish of Gavin to pursue his relationship with Jordan any further than he already had. She and her daughters deserved better than what he could give them, and the way he was feeling lately, Gavin had little left to give.

A knock at his front door pulled him from his thoughts and had him checking his watch.
Who
the
hell
was
here?
It wasn’t his mother, he thought, rolling his eyes. She never knocked. Gavin grabbed his T-shirt off the back of the chair and pulled it on as he made his way back into the house. Closing the slider behind him, he strode through the living room, his uninvited visitor pounding on the door like the place was on fire.

“Keep your pants on,” he shouted. “I’m coming! What the hell is…?”

Gavin tugged the door open and was about to rip his intruder a new one when he saw who it was. Dressed in a simple white sundress with a blue cardigan, Jordan looked absolutely gorgeous. Her long hair hung loose over her shoulders, and her face was, as usual, free of makeup. He soaked in the sight of her from head to toe, but his reverie came to a halt when he saw his duffel bag in her hands.

He’d been meaning to go get his things from her place but kept coming up with excuses not to…even though he knew it was inevitable. Lucky for him, Jordan was stronger than he was. She had done what he was too afraid to do.

“No wonder you hardly have any visitors here,” she said before slipping past him and letting herself in. “If you answer the door like that all the time, I’d be surprised if the mailman ever delivers any mail to you.”

“Come on in,” he said with more than a little sarcasm as he shut the door. He bit back the urge to pull her into his arms, reminding himself again that this was all for the best. “I assume you came by to drop off my stuff. I’m sorry I didn’t come get it sooner. You can leave the bag on the kitchen table.” Jordan ignored him and went into the living room. “Or you can put it on the couch.”

“This is nice,” she said, her back to him. She strolled around the room before depositing the bag on the coffee table. She pointed to the kitchen and smiled. “That’s the kitchen?”

Without waiting for a response, she headed into the small white-and-red kitchen and started rummaging through his refrigerator. Gavin leaned both hands on the breakfast bar that also served as a divider between the kitchen and the living room and wondered what exactly she planned on doing.

Within about three minutes, his question was answered. She’d found everything she needed to make eggs and bacon, probably because that’s about all he had in there. The woman even put the last two pieces of stale bread in the toaster. The entire situation rendered Gavin momentarily speechless.

“What the hell are you doing?” he finally asked, more harshly than he intended. “It’s almost eight o’clock at night. Why are you making breakfast?”

“You look like shit, Gavin.” Jordan turned over a few pieces of bacon on the griddle, not looking at him while she spoke. “I’m betting you’ve hardly eaten or drank anything except coffee and doughnuts in the past three weeks.” Glancing at him over her shoulder, she smirked and looked him up and down before turning back to the stove. “Actually, I take that back. Just coffee.”

Gavin wrestled with how perfect it having her in his kitchen.
Son
of
a
bitch.
He didn’t
want
to want her—to want
this
.
Damn
it
all
to
hell!
Frustration and anger shimmied up his back as he fought his conflicting emotions.

He stormed around the island and into the kitchen.

“I’m fine.” Looming next to her, he growled, “I didn’t ask you to come here and take care of me. I’m not a child.”

“Nope,” she said brightly. “Well, you’re part right. You may not be a child, but you certainly are acting like one.”

Jordan transferred the bacon to a plate covered with paper towels and turned off the burner. She continued her impromptu cooking escapade without missing a beat, pouring the egg mixture into a heated pan that sizzled with butter.

In spite of how uncomfortable Gavin felt, he couldn’t stop his stomach from rumbling as the delicious aroma filled the room.

“Now, Chief, why don’t you stop glowering at me and get us a couple of plates?”

“Stop it,” he whispered. Gavin’s hands curled into fists as he fought the urge to touch her, to tangle his fingers in her long hair and lose himself in the feel of her. To forget how shitty he felt—but that would be selfish. He didn’t deserve it, and he sure as shit didn’t deserve her. “I mean it, Jordan. You should go. I thought I made myself clear at the cemetery. I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” she asked, scraping the scrambled eggs onto another large plate next to the bacon. The pan clattered on the stove top. Jordan wiped her hands on a dish towel before tossing it onto the counter. “Eat? Take care of yourself? Stop blaming yourself for Rick’s death or for Jimmy’s? Love me?” Her eyebrows flew up and she poked him in the chest with one finger. “Which is it, Gavin? All of the above?”

“No,” he seethed. “Damn it, Jordan.” He stepped back but she kept coming, meeting his glare with her own. “I can’t do
this
. You and the girls. Us. All of it,” he shouted. “I was wrong and I shouldn’t have started any of this back up again. Okay?”

“No, Gavin, it’s not okay,” Jordan said in a surprisingly calm tone. She got right in his face, hands on her hips, but he held his ground. “You can’t come storming back into my life like some kind of hurricane and then slink away because you get scared.” He flinched and narrowed his gaze. “Yeah, that’s right. I see right through your bullshit, and so does everyone else.”

“It’s not bullshit, Jordan.” Gavin’s voice was rough and edgy, barely above a whisper. “I don’t have anything left to give. Even if I did, I’d be of little use to you, Gracie, and Lily. You said it yourself—you came home to start over. The last complication the three of you need is to have me in your life.” His jaw clenched and his mouth set in a firm line as he fought to get the words out. “I’m trying to protect you.”

Jordan inched closer and her clean, flowery scent cut through the pall of smoke that clung to him in a seemingly ever-present cloud. With it came hope. Need. Yearning. All he’d smelled for weeks was smoke and burnt plastic but not now. Soap. A hint of suntan lotion and a whisper of flowers wafted off her in a deliciously sexy way. His body and mind were waging an all-out war, and the conflict was going to drive him mad.

“No, you’re not,” Jordan countered. Her breasts brushed against his chest. The edge of the counter dug into his ass as she trailed one finger up his arm. Her voice, soft and seductive, drifted over him like a caress. It threatened his resolve as did the trail her finger blazed along his flesh. “The only person you’re trying to protect is yourself.”

Gavin stilled when her empathy-filled, intelligent brown eyes met his. Fear, guilt, regret, lust, and overwhelming need flooded him as her delicate hands drifted over his chest and down his stomach before finally settling at his waist.

She pressed her body against him and lowered her voice to a whisper. “You didn’t kill them.”

“That’s not what this is about.” Gavin grabbed her arms and gently but firmly pushed her away before striding out to the living room. “Stop. This is done. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.”

He stood at the glass sliding door and stared out over the ocean. Hands on his hips, he kept his back to her. Maybe, just maybe, if he pushed hard enough, she would leave.

“Jimmy was playing with those matches up in the loft,” she continued, all of her natural strength and determination shining through as she persisted. Jordan kept coming at him like the relentless waves in the ocean below. One after the other, she persisted. “Before you tell me that I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about, I’ll let you know that I spoke to Tommy. He told me what happened, and, yes, you brought the matches and cigarettes, but you tried to keep Jimmy from touching them. Tommy said that his brother stole them when you weren’t looking and took them up to the loft.
Jimmy
lit the fire that killed him and wounded you and Tommy.”

She moved closer but Gavin held firm.

“Tommy tried to get to his brother first, but he got scared by the fire and you saved him. He said you tried to save Jimmy too, but fire and debris started to rain down on you. What else could you have done? And Rick? Rick did what he had to do, Gavin. He did what you and all of the men in your squad have done countless times. He put his life on the line to keep someone else safe, and this time…this time he lost.”

Her voice wavered, her hand settling on his shoulder where the scarred and puckered flesh lived. A grim daily reminder of his failure. “The scars you carry aren’t only on the outside, Gavin. But you have to stop torturing yourself. You didn’t kill Jimmy.” The warmth of her palm seeped into his shoulder, soothing the wound and bringing the numb flesh to life at the same time. She sniffled, her voice cracking with emotion. “And you didn’t kill Rick.”

A swell of grief swamped Gavin, making him squeeze his eyes shut against the surge of emotion, but the gentle sound of Jordan’s voice tugged at him. It called to him, preventing him from falling over the edge like the sun and vanishing into the abyss.

Jordan’s hand dropped from his shoulder, and he could feel her moving away from him. She was right. He was scared. Scared shitless both of losing and of loving her. The sound of his front door clicking open forced his hand.

He couldn’t let her leave. Not now. Not ever.

He was a selfish bastard.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Gavin ground out.

When he spun around, Jordan was standing in the open doorway with her back to him. A warm ocean breeze blew through the house and lifted her hair from her shoulders like wings. The lights from his parents’ house glimmered in the distance, making it even more evident that his home was right here with her.

“You’re right. I’m scared, Jordan. I am absolutely
terrified
that I’ll die on the job and leave you, Lily, and Gracie alone. I don’t want that for you. Can you understand that? I want you and the girls to have a big life, a life full of magic tricks and bodysurfing. Not nights of wondering whether or not I’m gonna die in a fire and leave you all alone. You deserve better than that.”

“I don’t need you making my decisions for me,” she said, her voice rising with impatience.

“Damn it, Jordan.” He ran one hand over his face and shouted, “
I
don’t want to fail you!
”

There it was. He’d finally spit it out. His worst fear was out in the open and exposed like a wound that wouldn’t heal. Failing Jordan was the one tragedy he simply had not been willing to risk.

Gripping the doorknob tighter, Jordan turned around slowly. She closed the door before leaning back against it. A smile curved her lips and she tilted her head, keeping her hands clasped behind her. She studied him with a knowing expression for what seemed like an eternity before finally pushing herself away from the door and striding slowly toward him.

“I love you, Gavin, and in spite of how you’re acting, I know that you love me.” She stopped a few feet away from him with that steely, determined expression on her face. “But I am not your responsibility, and
you
don’t get to choose who
I
love. Okay? And as fate would have it, I love you, you big idiot. And it’s not just me. My girls love you. You’ve been more of a father to them over this summer than their own father ever was. I know you’re scared and so am I, but that’s part of the deal, isn’t it?

“Love is scary. It’s terrifying. Whether it’s the love we feel for our child when we first look into their face on the day that they’re born or the love we have for a parent who’s frighteningly imperfect, or if it’s the love I have for a man who’s hell-bent on not letting me love him. Love is scary and wonderful, and it’s what makes us human.” Arms wide and with a smile brightening her face, she whispered, “I love you, Gavin, and I need you. You didn’t kill Jimmy or Rick.”